Campus Tramps

Chapter One

Robyn Gets Sticky

"Oh, Mr. Peters, isn't there anything I can do to get you to change your mind?"

Francis Peters leaned back in his chair and sighed. The sigh said, "I really can't see anyway around it," but it was also a way of letting out breath at the sight of the girl sitting across his desk, looking at him with her large, doleful dark eyes.

Robyn Wilde was a fox, no two ways about it. Just the sight of her in his classroom, gazing into space and chewing on her gum while he tried to explain the finer points of symbolism in the works of Herman Melville, was enough to start a stirring in his jeans. Robyn was only eighteen, but well past the first blush of womanhood. She had a ripe, exciting body that was usually packed into tight shorts and skirts -- not to mention blouses that always seemed to have one too many buttons undone.

Now she was here, her cascade of red hair spilling over her shoulders, her sweet girlish face wearing an imploring expression. Her legs were crossed and one foot was swinging nervously as she made her plea.

"I'm sorry about this, Robyn," Francis Peters said. "If you're going to do inferior work, you're going to be marked accordingly. As it is, you're lucky to get away with a C-minus. I really didn't see any sign of effort at all."

"Oh, Mr. Peters. It's just that I'm so distracted in your class. I can make the effort, really I can."

"What is it about my class that you find so distracting?" Peters asked curiously.

"Well ... it's you, Mr. Peters."

His eyebrows lifted quizzically. "I don't understand."

Robyn leaned forward and traced a hand over her leg, just above her knee. There was a lot of smooth skin exposed there, since she was wearing another of her famous short skirts.

"Mr. Peters, you're a good looking guy. I'm not the only girl who thinks so, you know. We all get together after classes and compare notes on the profs, and you always make the grade. I find myself watching you when I should be paying attention to whatever big book you're talking about."

Her ripe lips, with their heavy coating of crimson, parted slightly, glistening. Again Peters felt the straining in his prick.

"That's very flattering, Robyn, but ..."

"It's not just that!" Robyn protested. "Mr. Peters, sometimes I get the feeling that ... well, you sort of like me too. I mean, sometimes when you're walking around the class while we're doing an assignment, and I'm bent down over my notebook, it's sort of like ... Well, when I'm like that, sometimes my blouse is a little open. Once or twice I thought you were just kind of glancing down at me, you know? As though you wanted to see whether I was wearing a bra or not."

His face flushed slightly. "That's a very serious accusation, Robyn."

"Oh, Mr. Peters, I don't mean it as an accusation!" said Robyn plaintively. "I like it. I don't mind if you want to have a little look. I mean, that happened yesterday, right? While we were working on this test? And when I felt your eyes on me, it's like, my titties got all warm. Could you see that when you got back to the desk -- my nipples standing up and winking at you through my blouse?"

She smiled invitingly, her eighteen-year-old smile, and Peters had to work hard not to smile back.

"I may have noticed it, Robyn," he admitted. "I'm human, you know."

"Oh, I know!" said Robyn. "The thing is, Mr. Peters, that you got me so hot and bothered that I couldn't concentrate at all on the work I was doing. So do you really think it's fair to give me a C-minus when it's you I was thinking about, instead of Herbert Melville?"

"That's Herman Melville, Robyn."

"Whatever. Look, Mr. Peters. I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," said Peters. Somehow he thought this would be more than the usual promise to stay behind after class or do more homework.

"Well, I don't think it makes sense for us to keep getting so distracted by each other. Mr. Peters, if you're curious about what my breasts look like, I'd ... I'd like to show them to you. It would make me happy, you know -- turn me on. I'd even touch them a little bit, if that would excite you. I could pinch the nipples and show you how hard they were getting yesterday."

As if to emphasize her point, she pushed her swelling bosom forward against her thin blouse. Peters gulped.

"And just assuming I would go for something like that, what would you need in return?"

"Oh, just another letter grade or two, Mr. Peters. It's only fair. How about one grade for each sweet tittie? From a C-minus to a C to a C-plus. What do you say?"

The hard-on that was throbbing in his pants would not be denied. Peters got up and crossed the office. He made sure the door was locked and then went to shut the blinds, cutting off the late-spring sunlight that was pouring through the windows.

He turned around and said to the girl sitting at his desk: "Show me your breasts, then, Robyn. And you'd better touch them properly."

Robyn's fingers trembled as she fumbled at the buttons on her blouse. There was a rising blush of arousal on her pretty face. She swung the swivel chair around to face Peters. With one brazen motion she pulled her blouse open. She wasn't wearing a bra, and the perfectly smooth, creamy globes of her young breasts stood revealed for his eyes. She pushed them forward and cupped them, rubbing the nipples to full erection with her thumbs.

"Oh, there they are, Mr. Peters, sir! Shit, I'm so glad I can touch them for you -- it feels like they're about to burst. I hope you're not going to burst, sir. It looks like you're getting a pretty wicked bulge there."

"Maybe I am," Peters agreed. "You're really very beautiful, Robyn."

"But that's not the half of it!" Robyn protested. "I've got so much more I could show you!"

"Like what?" Peters said, his balls aching.

"Well ... my cunt, Mr. Peters, sir. Oh, there were times sitting there in class, I would feel myself getting so creamy down there, thinking about you. I just wanted to open my legs right there and pull up my skirt and give you a good look at my wet little pussy."

Almost involuntarily, Peters passed a hand down and squeezed the bulge in his pants. "Why don't you show me your cunt, Robyn. I suppose you don't wear panties, as well."

"You guessed right, Mr. Peters," Robyn said slyly. She pulled up her skirt, opened her long, graceful legs -- and there it was. A gorgeous trimmed triangle of pussy-bush, and buried there in the fleecy red thicket ...

"Let me open it up for you, sir," said Robyn. She slid the fingers of both hands down between her legs. They were instantly covered with juice from her slit.

"Ohhhhhh," she groaned, and tugged apart the sweet lips of her cunt, opening them rudely so he could see the darker depths of her pussy-meat. A few shafts of light were still streaming through the closed blinds and one of them came to rest on the inside of her thigh. Robyn shifted her ass over so that the light-beam landed on the wet stickiness of her cunt. Then, with everything well-illuminated, she started stroking herself for her professor. She rubbed her tormented clit, sliding a hand down under her shapely ass to stick two fingers into her hot hole.

She gave a little yelp -- even at the height of her pleasure, she remembered not to make too much noise; they didn't want to attract anyone from down the hallway -- and then she was spilling over the edge, gasping as the spasms shook her. She frigged her clit mercilessly, and the lips of her pussy fluttered as though fighting for air.

"Oh, shit, that was good. Shit that was good, Mr. Peters, sir. You've got my cunt just as moist and friendly as can be."

Her eyes were closed and a smile of deep satisfaction rested on her pretty face. Then her eyes opened and widened in dismay. "Mr. Peters, you've still got the hard in your pants! Here am I supposed to be doing things for you, and I'm getting off all over your chair and leaving you there frustrated."

"Sometimes it's nice just to be turned on," Peters said quietly, although there was a real tension in his voice.

"Maybe, Mr. Peters. But not now. Not now. You've got all that hot jism building up inside you right now, don't you, sir? Sometimes my boyfriend -- you know Frank -- he gets like that too. Then I have to do something for him, or it starts to hurt him."

"What do you do for him, Robyn?" asked Peters, feeling as though he was about to pop the zipper on his pants.

"Well" -- Robyn's forehead creased in hard thinking. "Usually I just stroke him off with my hand, you know. I've gotten pretty good at it. He likes me to talk dirty to him while I'm doing it. Then every so often, he ... he puts it up here in my mouth. Jesus, he loves that.

"At first it took some getting used to, you know, but even at the beginning I would let him spurt his cum and I'd eat it all. I'm not a tease, you know, Mr. Peters. Not like some of the other girls. If I'm with a guy I'll do him proper."

"Properly," Peters corrected her.

"Sorry," Robyn smiled. "I guess I'm not so good with words. But my mouth is fine for other things, sir. Why don't you come over here and show me your hard prick and let me suck you off nice and slowly?"

Peters was shivering with the desire to do exactly that, but some vestige of restraint held him back. "I'm not sure that would be appropriate, Robyn."

"Appropriate, nothing. I'll tell you what, Mr. Peters. I'm not even looking for extra grades. You got me off just by looking at me while I was touching my cunt. I want to do the same for you, and make it good."

Seeing that he was still undecided, she got up and came over to him. "Touch my breasts, Mr. Peters. Touch me between the legs! Then let me suck your cock and eat all your cum."

She pushed her breasts insistently against him. The sudden arrival of this young vision in his personal space, her perfume, the smell of her hair, almost made him pass out. Instinctively, he reached for her breasts and squeezed them, then slid a hand down to the moist flesh of her pussy. Robyn was running a hand over the unbearable tightness of his crotch, and she was right -- she did know how to handle a male tool. Quick as a flash, she unzipped him and took his prick out into the heated office air.

"Wow, look at you, Mr. Peters," she said, stepping back to admire his hard-on. "That's way bigger than Frank's. Do you think I'll even be able to fit it all in my mouth?"

"I think you'd better try, Robyn," said Peters in his best professorial tone.

Slowly Robyn sank to her knees. She ran her hand up and down his burning shaft and kissed and licked the proud tip of his cock. A single drop of cum leaked out and Robyn lapped it up quickly.

"Tastes nice, sir. I'm sure there's more where that came from." And then she bent to her task with real enthusiasm. Her warm, tight mouth engulfed his prick. She sucked and licked him like a pro, tickling his balls with one hand, letting his cock slide out and brush along her cheek. She was breathing heavily and running a hand down to stroke her cunt now and then, twitching with renewed lust.

"Mmmmm -- oh, it's good to suck your cock, sir," she said teasingly, holding his prick a couple of inches from her face, blowing cool air onto it every few seconds. "I can tell you're getting all ready to pop off. And -- oh, Mr. Peters. I just remembered something."

"What's that?" said Peters through clenched teeth -- he felt like he was walking a tightrope with someone pulling on both ends, trying to shake him off.

"A couple of days ago Frank brought home a video tape and we watched it -- it was a porno, you know? The first time I'd ever seen one. And you know what happened? There was this actress in there -- a cute blonde chick -- and she was sucking this guy off."

She kissed away another pearly drop of cum from the end of his cock. "But when he was about to cum, he didn't stick it back in her mouth and do it there. Mr. Peters, he shot it all over her face! She was damned near covered with his cream when he'd finished blasting off.

"I asked Frank about that afterwards and he said it was a sight that turned some men on -- including him. I told him one really special day I'd let him do it on me like that, maybe his next birthday -- but perhaps I should get some practice first, Mr. Peters, huh? What do you think? Would you like to cum all over my face?"

"Jesus Christ, Robyn," said Mr. Peters, trying hard to keep the authority-figure distance between them. She'd certainly put her finger on his private fantasy! He would have to get back in control ...

"Maybe I'd like that, Robyn. Maybe that would be worth an extra letter grade or two."

Robyn gasped happily. "You mean maybe a B-plus, just for letting you squirt in my face? Oh, Mr. Peters, you go ahead. I'll eat it up for you, too. Go on, sir. Jerk it off. Aim it where you want it to go."

Peters tugged and pulled on his hard, bursting prick. He looked down and saw Robyn angling her face so it was right under the tip of his cock. She was smiling and waiting for the flood. And it came!

Peters nearly screamed with joy as his balls burst. Spasms rocketed through him from head to toe, and thick spurts of cum gushed out and splashed over Robyn's pretty young face. She moaned and writhed as the sperm blasted onto her. As the jets poured out, she brought her fingers up and started spooning the jism into her mouth, where it hung from her lips in sticky strands.

He finished his orgasm with a few last pumps into her mouth, with her sucking strongly on his wilting prick.

"Geez, look at me!" Robyn said happily.

Her face was a mask of sweet cum, and she licked it off her fingers, keeping her eyes on him, knowing the sight was one he'd remember for a long time. "I never thought a guy could cum so much, Mr. Peters. I guess we must have both got ourselves pretty heated up."

"I think that's fair to say, Robyn," said Peters, tucking his prick back into his pants and going to fetch her a hand-towel to clean the spunk from her face. But by the time he got back, there wasn't much left to clean off -- she'd done that already with her fingers, and the evidence still trickled from the corner of her mouth. She was grinning, her face shining with excitement, perspiration, and a few last glimmers of his cum.

"Robyn?"

"Yes, Mr. Peters, sir?"

"I think that was above and beyond the call of duty. I hope it goes without saying that word of this ... event ... must never leave this office."

"Oh, no, sir. I wouldn't dream of telling anyone. It was fun. Maybe -- maybe we could distract each other in class some more sometime? Then I'd have to come back here and make another deal for a better grade. Maybe you could stick it in my pussy next time."

Peters sighed. "Robyn, you really should learn to pay more attention in class."

"Oh, but Mr. Peters! This sort of thing is just so much more exciting than old Herbert What's-His-Name."

"Herman," said Peters reprovingly. "Herman Melville's a very famous name, Robyn. Moby-Dick is one of the genuine classics of American literature."

"I guess I must have been thinking about another dick while you were talking about it," said Robyn salaciously. "Thanks for your time, Mr. Peters, sir. I can still feel your cum tingling on my face. It'll be nice to have it there for the rest of the day, and no-one else'll know."

She smiled at him, opened the door, and went out, leaving a trace of her perfume in the air.

Peters leaned back in his chair. This sort of thing hadn't been part of the job-description when he was hired. But when he really thought about it, his stint at Pattison College was pleasing him more and more.